


blossom (sweet)

by rivercurve



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kissing, M/M, Movie Night, i wish i could add more but that's it that's literally the fic, that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivercurve/pseuds/rivercurve
Summary: Lamplight softens Jungwoo’s features, smooths the curves of his cheeks and the dip beneath his nose until they’re coated in gold, dripping in honey. Jungwoo is watching the movie; Dongyoung is watching Jungwoo. Good, safe, whole. Thud, thud, thud.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	blossom (sweet)

**Author's Note:**

> i am back with something a little bit weird and a little bit different! hopefully it is enjoyable; i had a blast working on it

The lamplight in the room is dim and Jungwoo’s frown is starting to show, just slightly. The film they’re watching has long since been reduced to a low buzz in Dongyoung’s ears, the sound secondary to the constant thud of Jungwoo’s heartbeat. He’s pressed up against Jungwoo’s chest, half-covered in a thick blanket, listening to it go steadily. This person _matters_ , it insists. This person is _good_ , this person is _safe_ , this person is _whole_. Dongyoung listens. The movie drones on. 

Lamplight softens Jungwoo’s features, smooths the curves of his cheeks and the dip beneath his nose until they’re coated in gold, dripping in honey. Jungwoo is watching the movie; Dongyoung is watching Jungwoo. Good, safe, whole. Thud, thud, thud. 

Onscreen, the woman lets out a cry and falls into the arms of her male counterpart in an embrace. Jungwoo lets out a tiny sigh, squinting behind his thick rimmed glasses. Dongyoung squeezes the places where his fingers are already wedged, just slightly, at the dip of Jungwoo’s waist. Index finger hooked around his hip, over the soft sweater with the oversized stitches. 

“I don’t get it.” Jungwoo says, a tiny furrow of annoyance between his brows. Dongyoung makes a little noise of agreement in the back of his throat. “He still doesn’t know that she’s the agent from the enemy agency. It isn’t going to change anything because they’re in love.” 

“Didn’t you want to watch this movie?” Dongyoung says, laughter bubbling up in his throat like fountain soda, Ramune, something sweet. Fizzy.

“Yeah.” Jungwoo says. Almost absently, he reaches a hand down to where Dongyoung’s hand is on his waist and begins to rub back and forth on his knuckles. “I guess I thought there would be more of the spy plot.” 

“It’s a spy romance.” Dongyoung says. He could check the plot on Naver, reach over and grab his phone and find out whether it was more spy or more romance, but to dislodge himself from Jungwoo feels like a crime now. The hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He keeps holding on, revels in the feeling of Jungwoo’s fingers on his knuckles. 

“It’s a spy romance, so there should be more spies.” Jungwoo says. His hair is black now—they’re in between schedules—and a little in his eyes. Dongyoung wants to reach up and brush it away, see the full effect of his pout. The scene has shifted to something more secluded. The woman and the man are on the bed, his ID from his spy society set in front of her. Both her hands are clasped in front of her mouth. “This is all just—just waffle.” 

“ _Waffle_?” Dongyoung says and this time he really does laugh. Jungwoo’s nose is slightly wrinkled in that way that it gets when he knows he’s wrong but doesn’t want to admit it. The couch is soft; Jungwoo’s sweater is softer. He badly wants to push it aside and reach for the bare skin of his waist. “You know, you should’ve let me pick the movie. Last weekend—,” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jungwoo grumbles. He’s still looking at the TV screen. Dongyoung wants to say: look at me. He stamps the desire down firmly. “But it was my turn, and even Yuta-hyung said I could pick.” He looks a bit mournful as he says this. They’d started the movie with Jaehyun and Yuta and Taeil, but eventually Taeil had packed it in and then Yuta had followed, and Jaehyun had been last of all, patting Dongyoung’s shoulder with a loud yawn and a meaningful look.

“You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” Dongyoung says with another laugh, because they both know it’s true. Jungwoo wraps everyone around his finger at first sight, easy smile and large eyes and proving himself to be the best at aegyo again and again on variety shows. When he tilts his head and says _hyung_ just right, everyone thaws out a little. 

Everyone thaws out a little. Dongyoung full-out melts and prays he goes unnoticed, all the attention on Taeyong or Mark as they smile a little awkwardly at the cameras. The strength of the thing in his chest is like liquid. When Jungwoo makes a certain face at him, a little coy, almost like he knows what he’s doing, it seeps out through every pore in his body and gets all over everything. 

“Pfft.” Jungwoo says, waving this off like it’s nothing. “I don’t _really_ —,” A lie, but they both let it slide. Dongyoung burrows in a little closer. He mutters something under his breath, but this close Dongyoung can hear the vibrations of it against his ear. It sounds suspiciously like _you_. 

Dongyoung is actually watching the protagonist now as she kisses her soon-to-be-husband. He takes a moment to process this comment. 

“What?” 

Jungwoo’s body goes stiff under Dongyoung. His hand doesn’t leave Dongyoung’s but it stops stroking, stills slowly like a bell coming to rest. The same bell that’s currently going off in Dongyoung’s mind. You, you, you, you. 

“I didn’t say anything, hyung.” Jungwoo says, a little note of uncertainty in his voice. His heartbeat has picked up, though, an invisible traitor that Dongyoung can hear the whispers of. This person is _good, safe, whole, good, safe, whole good safe whole good safe wholegoodsafewholegoodsafewholegood_

Jungwoo isn’t a very good liar, in the end. Dongyoung sits up fully, brings his arms back to his side. He does his best to look Jungwoo in the eyes, ducking his head to give him that wide-eyed look that’s been perfected by Jungwoo himself. It probably doesn’t look as good when it isn’t directed at a variety show host or some stranger in a lavender-lit club or Johnny when Jungwoo is asking about some English phrase he read on Twitter. But it’ll do. 

“Jungwoo-yahhhhh,” He says and his face is cracking into a smile. Even the lamplight can’t smooth over Jungwoo’s face now, his expressive mouth tugging downwards into a nervous frown, his hands turning themselves over in his lap. “Jungwoo-yah. Hey. Look at me?” 

Jungwoo looks, because at the end of the day he’s polite as he is infuriatingly casual sometimes. His eyes are all pupil, mixing into the dark brown of the iris. Dongyoung reaches for the remote, finally, mutes the protagonist and the sound of her wet, messy kissing. The kind of kissing Jungwoo likes to invite from strangers in lavender-lit clubs while Dongyoung watches and grips his glass and tries so hard not to care. At the end of the day, though, he gets to watch spy romances with Jungwoo and tease him about breathing into the mic and sneak into his room to wake him up for schedules at 6 am. At the end of the day, he’s the one who can say _Jungwoo-yah_ just right and have Jungwoo turn that wide, pretty gaze on him, a question in them. 

“So serious.” Jungwoo says with a smile, trying to laugh it off through the honey-thick tension that hangs in the air. “Can you turn the sound back on? I was watching that.” He reaches for the remote and Dongyoung moves it away quickly. 

“Jungwoo—,” 

“Give me the remote.” Jungwoo says, scrambling forward, and the tips of his ears are red. He’s actually blushing, Dongyoung realizes. It feels like he’s being shocked; it lights up the nerve endings that are soaked in his messy feelings. He holds the remote up as Jungwoo fights for it—and it shouldn’t even make sense because it’s Jungwoo that’s taller, not Dongyoung—and then, Dongyoung isn’t really sure even how it happens, but they’re kissing so softly. 

His grip on the remote goes slack and it falls into the thick carpet. Dongyoung doesn’t really care about the remote, honestly. He doesn’t really care about anything but Jungwoo and how he’s solid where Dongyoung’s hand is gripping his arm and he smells a little like that expensive perfume he bought on a whim a few months ago. It’s worn off, they’ve had a long day, but the hints of it are still there; peach blossoms and smoked sweetness. His mouth is soft and tastes like vanilla chapstick. 

They pull apart like spun sugar, so delicate it’s almost silent. Jungwoo’s eyes are closed. Dongyoung lets go of his arm. 

Then Jungwoo opens his eyes and gives him that coy little smile again, the one he uses to get his way from strangers and hosts and people he’s about to take to bed and Doyoung thinks oh. _Oh_. So this is how it’s going to be. 

Their second kiss is not nearly as hesitant. The woman onscreen is muted, which means Doyoung can hear every noise they make, the breath Jungwoo takes that sounds a little like Dongyoung’s name, the quiet creak of the couch when he pulls them down to be horizontal on it. Jungwoo is delicate where he puts his fingers on Dongyoung’s cheeks, smile spreading across his face, but he looks like he’s about to eat him whole. It’s a hello, a confirmation that Dongyoung is still here. 

Dongyoung slides one hand under Jungwoo’s sweater with the oversized stitching, just hoping to catch him off guard a little, and Jungwoo’s eyes go darker and a little glazed. He leans down and Dongyoung comes up to meet him halfway and they kiss as Dongyoung feels the knobs of Jungwoo’s spine, the dip of his back, the smooth expanse of skin. He can’t stop touching. Arguably, he should be more worried about someone coming back down, but Jungwoo is persistent and lovely and _distracting_. His tongue is warm and wet; they’re probably making as much noise as the woman onscreen was. Jungwoo makes this little gasping noise in the spaces of their separation, like he was made to do this, to kiss and be kissed by Dongyoung. They’re tightly pressed together, Dongyoung’s hands are everywhere, and everything is reduced to the feel of pressure and the scent of peach blossoms.

Eventually, they slow down until Jungwoo is moving lazily, kissing the way Dongyoung’s seen him do so many times. His mouth is swollen, vivid; the chapstick is smeared on Dongyoung’s mouth now, too. He feels giddy and bright. 

“Better than the spy romance?” He asks, breath coming quickly. Jungwoo smiles at him, huge and happy and Dongyoung wants to make him do that every day for the rest of eternity, even after they’re retired and the Earth explodes into the Sun.

“You’re good at that.” Jungwoo says. He sounds a little surprised, but pleasantly so. “It’s fun, isn’t it?” 

Jungwoo is the kind of person who has always worn his sexuality on his sleeve, free and open. Dongyoung is the kind of person who would rather spend his time in clubs at the bar with Johnny, trying to see who can safely consume the most amount of weirdly named shots and trying not to watch as Jungwoo seduces every breathing human in the room. 

“It’s fun with you.” He says, trying not to sound stupid and vulnerable. It comes out anyway. Fuck, he’s the hyung here! He should be taking the lead! “If you want to do it again, I wouldn’t—I mean, I want to do it again.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jungwoo’s eyes are glittering and his soft, expressive, red mouth is completely open right now. Dongyoung wants to kiss it again. Dongyoung did that in the first place, fuck. “I think it’s fun with you too. Wanna know a secret?” 

“Ok.” Dongyoung says. He’s already given away his biggest secret today. It came out through his mouth and into Jungwoo’s at some point while they were kissing. Or maybe it was after, when he said _it was fun with you_. Or maybe he didn’t really give it up today; maybe it’s been given up from the moment he saw Jungwoo moving his things into the 127 dorms, all determined eyes and burnished coppery hope.

“I wanted to try it with you for a while.” Jungwoo says. He smiles a little shyly. “But I didn’t know if you’d want to.” 

Dongyoung stares at the ceiling and rewinds the past six months of his life. Jungwoo wanted to do this with him for a while and he didn’t take him up on it? All those movie nights where Jungwoo touched him so freely, dragged hands along his wrists and eyes along his throat suddenly click into place. 

“Me too!” He says quickly. It makes Jungwoo bite his lip to keep more laughter from spilling out, but he ignores it. “Me too. I wanted to.” 

“Mm.” Jungwoo hums, a little noncommittal, a little teasing. His eyes go from Dongyoung’s eyes to the long column of his throat, open and wide for the taking and Dongyoung’s mouth goes dry.

“No marks.” Dongyoung says a little weakly, because he can already see where Jungwoo’s mind is going. The stylists and makeup noonas will give him hell for it, though. “Jungwoo—,” 

“No marks.” Jungwoo agrees sweetly, and then he goes to kiss down Dongyoung’s jaw and Dongyoung loses whatever thoughts he had and lets himself be kissed gently, lets himself be taken apart in the lamplight while the movie ends in the background on mute.

**Author's Note:**

> the hardest part of this fic was keeping track of the movie they're watching while also trying to keep track of them. i'm still not 100% sure i pulled it off. i'll reread it again tomorrow and fix it if it's inconsistent!
> 
> this is my first nct! i have another fic for these two coming up at some point that i wrote the night before i got oral surgery, and it actually got me so bad on rereading, but it is less than 1k so i will be brushing it up and writing a bit more before i post it. i also maybe want to try to write dream? we'll see how everything goes. i still have blue moon to keep an eye on. 
> 
> as always, if you liked it please leave me a kudos or a comment (or both!) i really really love to hear what people think, it honestly makes my heart happy <3 <3 <3 
> 
> i'm on [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/rivercurve) and also [cc](https://curiouscat.me/shapeofashape) if you'd like to talk to me <3 <3


End file.
